


Taking the Cake

by StBridget



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Baking, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: Danny needs to make cupcakes for the bake sale at Grace's school. Steve is not who he intended to ask for help.





	Taking the Cake

**Author's Note:**

> Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> Cross-posted from FF
> 
> Based on the prompt "I have 50 boxes of cake mix, we need to start making cakes ASAP, where are you?" "I think you got the wrong number but count me in anyway, it sounds like fun!"

The last thing Steve McGarrett expected when he answered his phone was the voice yelling in his ear. "I have 50 boxes of cake mix. We need to start making cupcakes right away if we want to get them done in time for the bake sale tomorrow. Where the hell are you?"

Steve stared at his phone in bewilderment. He was pretty sure whoever it was had the wrong number. He looked at caller id, expecting to see a random number. Instead, he saw a name—"Danny Williams". Who the hell was that? Oh, yeah, that mouthy blond cop at his father's house, the one who'd pulled a gun on him and forced him to accept the governor's offer to lead a task force—one that currently had Steve as the only member. Steve had saved the detective's number in case he had further questions about his father's case, and, he had to admit, in the back of his mind, with the idea of asking him to join the task force. Being called at home and ordered to make cupcakes was definitely not what Steve expected, but since it came up. . ."I think you've got the wrong number," Steve said into his phone, "but count me in anyway. It sounds like fun."

There was a pause, then Danny's voice came again. "You're not my ex-wife."

Steve chuckled. "What gave it away?"

"So, if you're not Rachel, who the hell are you?"

"Steve McGarrett. We met at my father's house."

"How do you know?" Danny asked, suspiciously. "You don't even know who I am."

"Sure I do. You're Danny. We exchanged numbers."

"That's _Detective Williams_ to you, _Commander McGarrett_." The emphasis Danny put on the formal titles amused Steve.

"If we're going to be making cupcakes together, I think it's Steve and Danny, don't you?"

"Who said we were making cupcakes together?"

"You did," Steve said.

"No, I told my _ex-wife_ we were making cupcakes," Danny corrected.

"But you got me," Steve pointed out. "So, do you want my help or not?"

There was a pause, then a deep sigh. "Yes, dammit. I'm never going to manage all these cupcakes alone, and since Rachel seems to be MIA, it looks like you're all I've got."

"Great," Steve said. "Where do you live and I'll be right over?"

"See, that's the thing," Danny said. "My apartment's tiny, and my kitchen's even tinier. I was hoping to use Rachel's gigantic, commercial-grade kitchen."

Steve thought fast. "So, come over here. My kitchen's not huge, but there should be plenty of room, and I've got lots of table and counter space for the cupcakes to cool on."

"Seriously?" Danny's voice was incredulous. "Your house is a crime scene!"

"Not anymore," Steve reminded him. "And it's not like you don't know where it is."

Another sigh. "Fine. I'll be there in 20 minutes. I hope you have a big mixer."

It occurred to Steve after Danny hung up he had no idea _what_ he had in the kitchen. He hadn't actually looked since he'd been back home, and he had a feeling kitchenware wasn't high on his dad's list of priorities. Whatever was there was probably left over from when his mom was alive.

It turned out Steve did not, in fact, have a stand mixer, but he did find multiple hand mixers, all still in working order (and who needed three hand mixers, anyway? Probably whoever was looking for them just couldn't find one and bought another. Steve had certainly done that on more than one occasion). He briefly debated going out and buying a stand mixer, but he wasn't sure a.) if he had time before Danny arrived, and b.) where he'd find a stand mixer at this time of night anyway. Maybe he should order one so they had it next time. Wait, where did that come from? Chances were, Danny was never going to agree to make 50 batches of cupcakes again, and if he did, he certainly wasn't going to make them with Steve, who, after all, was practically a stranger. For some reason, Steve felt a pang of regret at the thought, which was ridiculous because Steve hardly knew the guy, and what he did know hardly made a positive impression. Which begged the question, why was Steve helping him out in the first place?

Steve was brought out of his musing by a knock on the door. He opened it to find Danny, carrying a large box which looked like it did, indeed, hold 50 boxes of cake mix. "You weren't kidding about the 50 boxes," Steve said, slightly dismayed.

Danny breezed by him into the house, making a beeline for the kitchen as if he belonged there. "No, I wasn't. You should see the eggs and oil involved. Speaking of which, give me a hand, will you?"

Steve obeyed, following Danny out to his car, a sweet Mustang Steve Steve was envious of. It wasn't a big car to begin with, and what space there was was crammed with cupcake ingredients. "Wow," Steve said in awe.

"Yeah." Danny shoved a box filled with eggs at Steve. "Careful with those."

It took several trips, but finally, everything had been carried inside. Steve eyed his kitchen. Every surface was covered with boxes of ingredients. He wasn't sure where they were going to actually make the cupcakes. They could move some of the boxes to the dining room, but it was still going to be tight. Steve had a thought. Or, they could make the cupcakes in the dining room. Yeah, that would work.

Steve took charge. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. . ."

"I can't believe it!" Danny yelled. "First, you take over my crime scene, now you're trying to take over my cupcakes! What's next, the rest of my life?"

Steve sent Danny a look that was supposed to be withering, but the blond seemed unaffected. "Do you want to get this done or not?"

"I don't have a choice," Danny said. "They're due at school at 7 am tomorrow."

"That doesn't give us much time," Steve said. "Couldn't you have made them ahead of time?"

"I could," Danny said in an overly-controlled tone, clearly struggling not to let his feeling escape, "if my ex-wife hadn't forgotten to mention it when Grace brought the note home several weeks ago, then apparently didn't think about them again until Grace told _me_ about it when I picked her up a couple of days ago. I told Rachel, but even though _she's_ the one with the huge house and the huge kitchen and professional help, somehow _I_ got nominated to actually make them. She was supposed to help, but you know what happened with that. At least she paid for the ingredients."

"Well, we better get started," Steve said. "It's going to be a long night."

Things went surprisingly smoothly, given the rocky start to the two men's relationship and the fact that Steve had basically just barreled his way not only into Danny's crime scene but his home life as well. Danny groused at first, but he and Steve soon found their rhythm, each mixing and pouring a batch, then putting both batches in the oven. By the time the next batch was ready, those were cooked.

Steve wouldn't say it was no time at all before the last two pans were out of the oven, but it was a lot sooner than he'd expected. He moved to take off the apron he'd put on to protect his clothes, but Danny stopped him. "Not so fast. We still have to frost them."

Steve couldn't hide his dismay. He'd missed spotting the frosting among the boxes they'd brought in. "Frost them?"

"Of course! What are cupcakes without frosting? Oh, and there's rainbow sprinkles, too," Danny said, pulling a large container of the sprinkles in question from one of the boxes.

"Can't the kids frost them?" Steve wanted to no.

Danny gave him a look like he'd suddenly gotten a second head. "Really, Steven? You want to trust a bunch of eight year olds with frosting?"

"I suppose not," Steve said, defeated. "Okay, let's get this over with."

Frosting the cupcakes didn't go quite as smoothly. Danny kept complaining Steve put on too much frosting and swiping the extra. Steve couldn't help a flutter in his stomach as Danny sucked the frosting off his finger, even as he threatened to chop off Danny's finger if he did it one more time. Danny was impervious to Steve's threats and kept it up. It was all good-natured, though, and Steve didn't mind. In fact, the SEAL found he was thoroughly enjoying Danny's company and wanted more of it.

At last, their masterpieces, as Danny called them, were finished. The two men surveyed their work proudly.

"Excellent," Danny said. "Now, let's get them packed and get them to the school."

Steve looked at the cupcakes that covered every available surface in the dining room and kitchen. "How? We can't stack them in the boxes you brought, and there aren't enough boxes to do just a single layer in each."

"Don't you have Tupperware or something?" Danny asked.

"Not that much."

Danny thought a minute. "I guess we're just going to have to make multiple trips."

It took three trips to deliver all the cupcakes, but the teacher in charge of the bake sale was extremely grateful, so Steve supposed it was worth all the trouble. When the last batch was delivered, Danny dropped Steve back at his house. Steve hesitated before getting out of the car, reluctant to leave Danny's company. "It's been a long night. Want to come in and crash for a few hours?"

Danny considered the offer. "Nah, I'd better get home. Thanks for all your help."

"I enjoyed it," Steve said, truthfully. Still, he didn't get out of the car. Danny looked at him curiously, undoubtedly wondering what Steve was waiting for. "Can we do this again sometime?" Danny looked incredulous, so Steve hastened to add, "Not the cupcakes. Maybe lunch or something?"

Danny's expression was unreadable. "Like a date?"

"Yeah. Or a business meeting," Steve said, changing direction hastily in case Danny wasn't willing to go on a date. "We could talk about you joining the task force."

Danny's expression was still unreadable as he regarded Steve. "So, which is it?"

"Either. Both. Whatever you want," Steve said, trying to figure out the best way out of this situation, which was obviously making Danny uncomfortable.

Danny's expression didn't change. "Make it a date, and I'm in," he said at last, a grin lighting up his face.

Steve sighed in relief. "Great. I'll call you."

"There's just one condition," Danny said.

Steve's heart fell. Was Danny changing his mind already? "What?"

"No cake," Danny said, firmly.

Steve grinned back. "No cake," he promised.


End file.
